It Takes Two
by CelebrienTinuviel
Summary: Klaroline drabbles that I will post as inspiration strikes. Chapter 4: If I Loved You (AU/AH): KC as musical theatre actors.
1. Overture

She hadn't thought anything of it when Katherine texted her that they needed to rehearse their duet. Apparently they would be rehearsing with their pianist today, so Caroline made a point of checking into one of the student practice rooms early to warm up her voice.

The performing arts building was deserted, probably due to the fact that Katherine had scheduled their rehearsal for 9am on a Saturday. Caroline hated singing in the morning, it certainly didn't do her singing voice any favors, but sometimes it couldn't be helped, seeing as how it could be extremely difficult to actually grab a free practice room during normal school-day hours.

She had just started climbing the stairs to the second floor when her phone vibrated, abruptly breaking the silence.

_Just got a flat tire on my way to campus. Don't think I'll be able to make it in time. Can you just rehearse with him by yourself? Might as well help him out with the tempo markings and all. Sorry __L_

Caroline groaned inwardly. Typical Katherine—bailing at the last second.

Oh well. She could just rehearse with the accompanist anyways. Besides, she needed to work out the kinks of that one tricky passage—and Lord knew that high B-flat towards the end of the piece needed a little work.

Reaching the second floor, she paused for a moment. The light, tinkling strains of a piano floated down toward her, alerting her to the presence of the pianist.

Katherine had neglected to tell her which pianist they had—she hoped it was Dr. Saltzmann, he played so wonderfully—and by the looks of it, whoever it was had settled in the room farthest from the stairs.

She hesitated for half a second, glancing at the time displayed on her phone. She had five minutes to spare, and although she had wanted to warm up by herself (yes, just because she was a vocal performance major didn't mean she liked people listening to her rehearse) she found herself walking down the hallway and knocking on the door before she realized it.

The music instantly stopped. She heard the shuffling sounds of someone moving around, and suddenly the door burst open.

She flashed a smile and opened her mouth to speak, but stopped short.

The man in front of her was, to put it mildly, _gorgeous_—deep blue eyes, a tousled mop of tarnished-golden hair, and luscious lips stretched into a dimpled smirk made up the face of one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. The tightly-fitting Henley and dark jeans sitting snugly on his hips betrayed a toned, muscular body underneath.

He was most definitely not Dr. Saltzmann.

"Good morning, love. You must be Caroline." The man smiled at her.

Oh god—a British accent? She was so not prepared for this when she rolled out of bed this morning.

"Yes, that's me," she managed to recover her brain functioning. She tossed her head slightly, throwing her curls over her shoulder as she offered her hand out. "And you are…?"

"Niklaus Mikaelson, recently hired piano professor. Also currently working on a Masters in composition and a doctorate in piano performance." He shook her hand. Caroline nearly jumped at the contact. His large, rather rough hands were surprisingly gentle, and she felt the faintest flickerings of desire shoot through her. She glanced up at him. His easy smile had lessened somewhat, an altogether more intense look gracing his features. Their gazes held for a moment, before Caroline finally broke it, dropping her eyes to their joined hands.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she replied sincerely, thanking her lucky stars she had bothered to put on make-up and curl her hair this morning.

"Likewise." He dropped her hand and sat back down on the bench.

Wanting to avoid an awkward silence, Caroline forced herself to speak.

"This might sound like a dumb question, but if you're a performance emphasis, why are you acting as an accompanist? Aren't piano performance and accompaniment separate tracks?" she inquired curiously.

He laughed. "You're quite right, but I've always loved playing alongside fellow musicians, and besides, having extra experience accompanying won't hurt my resume. So I asked Dr. Salvatore if I could be put on the list of piano accompanists, and here I am."

"Oh. That's great." She shifted her feet, uncertain as to what to do next. Rehearsing with a hot British professor whom she had just met, alone, was unnerving her to say the least. She made a quick mental note to strangle Katherine when she next saw her.

"So, are you ready to begin?"

"Oh, yes, of course," she said hurriedly, rummaging through her purse to grab her music before setting it down on the floor and grabbing a music stand. She and Katherine had been working on this duet for a few weeks now for their opera workshop class, so she had it practically memorized, but having the music out was a crutch she most definitely needed for this situation. "I'm sorry to say that it'll just be you and me today—my friend Katherine is stuck with a flat tire so she can't make it."

"It's no trouble at all, sweetheart. Let's just make the best of what time we have."

She shivered slightly at his little tears of endearment and the slight double entendre of his words. _Damn it, Forbes, get your undergraduate mind out of the gutter! He is a professor! Off limits to civilians!_

"So…it looks like you have the music, correct?"

"Yes, Katherine emailed it to me a few days ago. So you're doing _Sull'aria...che soave zeffiretto_ from _Le nozze di Figaro_?"

If she thought his accent was sexy before, hearing him pronounce Italian with it sent goosebumps up her arms. The words sounded incredibly seductive rolling off of his tongue, immediately drawing her eyes to his full lips.

"Yes. Our class is putting together a few scenes from a few of Mozart's operas for our end-of-the-semester performance," she explained, masking her current inner turmoil by shuffling the pages of her music. "I'm singing the part of Susanna, and Katherine is playing the Countess."

"It's a wonderful piece. Particularly how Susanna echoes the Countess's words. One of my favorites out of the entire Mozart repertoire," he commented casually. He cleared his throat, glancing over at her. "Now, I presume you haven't warmed up yet?"

She shook her head. "No, although I'm definitely gonna need to if I want any chance of squeaking out that high B-flat," she joked, trying desperately to lighten the mood and suppress the dirty little thoughts that were slowly seeping into her mind. The practice rooms were extremely small, just big enough to hold an upright piano and have a little extra space to stand, as well as the table-like shelf for belongings that adjoined the far wall. She could just imagine sitting on the shelf like she'd done so many times before—only this time with her legs wrapped around his waist, burying her fingers into his curly hair while he kissed her neck—

"Caroline?"

_Shit. Wake the fuck up, Caroline! _"Sorry—my brain is still asleep-could you repeat that, Mr. Mikaelson?"

A small, amused smile played about his lips, his eyes roaming over her body. "I said I can warm you up if you'd like—and please, call me Klaus."

His innocent phrasing sent a wave of heat through her. She blushed, but determinedly returned his gaze. "That would be great…Klaus," she answered. She wondered briefly if they had crossed a line of some sort by using his first name, but she brushed that thought away as he played a scale, signaling the start of her warm-up. She didn't know why, but she was suddenly very nervous about him hearing her sing. Not that she didn't think she was good—she was one of the best vocalists in the music department, thank you very much—but she had the strangest need to impress this man.

He led her through some vocal exercises, every once in a while glancing up at her, those dimples making yet another appearance. As she sang, she grew more comfortable, filling the small space with her mellifluous tones. After a few minutes, he stopped, turning his head fully to look at her.

"You have a stunning voice, love. I could listen to you all day," he said softly, peeking up at her through his eyelashes, his expression focused and intent.

Satisfaction and bashfulness flooded into her at his compliments, flustering her. "Thank you," she murmured, absently tucking a curl behind her ear, not sure of what else to say.

After a beat, he abruptly turned back to the piano. "Well, if you're ready to go, let's begin, shall we?"

She nodded her assent, automatically straightening up into proper singing posture. The beginning would sound awkward without Katherine there to sing the first line, but it wasn't a big deal. Besides, it would force her to actually pay attention and count this time. Klaus's nimble fingers caressed the piano keys, the first notes of the duet washing over her as he played the introduction.

The thought occurred to her that she could just sing Katherine's part until her entrance, and was about to put that idea into action when a low baritone hummed out the Countess's opening line in perfect Italian.

Caught off guard, she nearly missed her own entrance, echoing the words back to him in her clear soprano voice. Alright, so he probably sang Katherine's first line to give her her cue. _Quite considerate of him._

But she did _not_ expect him to continue on, his low voice ringing out as he played the piano accompaniment perfectly.

Caroline just decided to go with it.

"_Che soave zeffiretto_

_Questa sera spirerà_

_Sotto i pini del boschetto. _

_Ei già il resto capirà_.

_Certo, certo il_ _capirà_."

They sang the entire piece, growing louder when they came together in harmony, backing off ever so slightly when one of them took over the melody. She couldn't believe how natural this felt—making music with him. She allowed her artistic side to take over, singing with more passion and intensity as they both sang the climactic high notes, their voices coming together in perfectly-tuned vibratos, the tone filling the room and sending an aching clench through her soul. It was one of those moments she sometimes had as a musician, where she recognized the beauty and order and truth in the organized notes and rhythms and words, and made her remember why she chose to purse music in the first place.

The last notes on the piano faded away into nothing, leaving behind a tense silence.

She opened her eyes, realizing just then that she had inadvertently closed them at some point while singing, to see a pair of blue eyes blazing into her own, shining with admiration and a glint of…was that lust?

She pulled out of the trance first, humming softly. "Well, that was…something."

"Yes, it most certainly was," he agreed.

"Your voice is amazing," she admitted. "I didn't know you could sing."

Klaus chuckled, ducking his head. "It's a hidden talent of mine. I usually stick to the ivories…but I made an exception for you," he lifted his head back up, that blazing look back on his face that was making her knees weak. "After hearing your exquisitely lovely voice I wanted to hear how our voices would blend together—a very successful experiment, if I do say so myself."

Suddenly, she felt her right hand encased in both of hers. Startled, she watched mutely as he tugged her hands up towards his full lips, where he planted a kiss on the back of each of her hands.

She breathed in sharply, her wide eyes transfixed on him, willing her erratic heartbeat to slow down.

Before she knew it the warmth of his skin on hers was gone, replaced by the rather stuffy air of the practice room. His face had relaxed back into a satisfied smirk.

She elected to ignore him, avoiding his stare and flipping through her music. "I think we blended very well—especially at that last section, you know, the '_certo il capira_' part, although I think I may have gone a little flat coming down from the B-flat, and we definitely could have slowed the tempo down more too—"

"Calm down, love, you're starting to ramble," he teased. "You seem a little flustered."

Caroline snorted. "I'm not flustered, I'm just thinking of all ways to improve the sound. Isn't that the point of a rehearsal anyways?" she challenged, turning her back on him and kneeling down on the floor, hunting down her water bottle that was in her purse she had tossed in the corner.

When she stood back up, however, he was no longer sitting on the bench, but standing right in front of her. He was so close, she could make out the stubble that graced his face. The scruff made him even more attractive, if that was possible. Her mind was getting fuzzier by the second.

"Hmmm, you're right. How stupid of me to forget," he hummed in that accent, stepping towards her. "Now that you mention it, there are few things I've thought of to improve our performance."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "And they are?"

He smiled at her, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, for starters, our acting could use a little tweaking. Our characters are scheming together, are they not?" He stepped forward again, almost backing her into the door. "We should probably get a bit closer. Put our heads together, so to speak."

His chest was barely brushing hers, and Caroline wildly thought about how it would feel to run her hands over his muscular arms and torso. Her mind screamed at her to stop, to back away from him, but her body just would not move. It was as if she were frozen, under his spell.

"Secondly, I believe we could put forth a little more passion and energy into our lower notes," he breathed, and she gasped as his hips met hers, her back now fully pressed into the door, a delicious friction radiating from where he had nestled between her legs. The lacy cream-colored skirt she had worn today rode up almost past her thighs, and she felt his hands settled on her hips, sending sparks of desire shooting through her. She swallowed thickly, simply unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Finally," he murmured, lowering his head so his lips were almost brushing hers, "I think we could practice keeping our harmonies in perfect rhythm and take the tempo a bit slower. What do you think, Caroline?"

For an instant, Caroline had a moment of clarity. She saw two clear choices and their consequences: leave now with a clear conscience, or have a taste of what Klaus was offering her and risk both of their reputations and careers.

But that one moment of clarity disappeared as quickly as it had come, and she knew that she had never really had a choice in the first place.

She lifted her head in challenge, moving past his cheek to brush her lips against his ear.

"I think we could risk taking the tempo a bit faster," she taunted, throwing her arms around his neck and putting her lips on his.

His lips were soft and sweet against hers as she kissed him, tilting her head to the side to bring herself even closer to his body. He reciprocated her fervent movements, a low growl rumbling in his chest as their kisses grew more intense. She couldn't resist sucking down on his lower lip, reveling in both the taste and his answering moan.

All at once, he roughly grabbed the back of her thighs, lifting her up against the door, which rattled at the impact. Instinctively, she wrapped her long legs around him, rubbing her hips against his as she clung to him like a vise. He pushed her back firmly against the door, his lips moving to place hot kisses on her neck and on her collarbone. She whimpered at the heady feeling, running her hands over his broad shoulders and upper back in response. His body felt every bit as glorious as it looked, and there was nothing more on this earth that she wanted more than to explore every inch of it.

Klaus must have been thinking in a similar vein, because at that moment he turned around, still holding her in his arms as he navigated them to the shelf on the back wall. He set her down gently, still pressed up against her, but as he moved his lips back to hers for a heated kiss he pulled insistently on the hem of her navy shirt. She moved back and threw her arms up so he could take the offending article of clothing off. He had just placed his hands on her bare waist when she pushed him back slightly, returning the favor and ripping his Henley off in the blink of an eye. He hummed in appreciation, and they paused, each drinking the other in, before Klaus leaned in slowly, seductively, allowing Caroline's nerves to reach a breaking point before he touched her shoulders softly, calloused fingers easing the straps of her lacy pale green bra to the side. She held her breath as he placed an open-mouthed kiss on her now-bare shoulder, moving to do the same with the other, sending pleasant shudders down her spine.

"You're beautiful, Caroline," he sighed against her skin, before lifting his head back to kiss her once more. His arms encircled her, pulling her up against him, his bare skin lighting fire to her own, her head pounding with pure desire.

She broke the kiss, wanting to return the favor and worship his body with her lips. She tugged on his necklaces, trailing kisses under his jaw and on the tattoo on the side of his chest, her tongue darting out to trace it. She hummed in satisfaction as he trembled in her arms, an occasional groan escaping his lips as he traced patterns on her back with his fingers. It was only when his fingers began playing with the claps of her bra that she ceased her ministrations, looking back up at him. He eyed her intently, a question reflecting in his dark blue eyes.

Flushed and breathless, Caroline nodded in answer, tightening her legs around his waist in encouragement.

He hissed quietly at that, unfastening her bra and dragging it down her arms, tossing it unceremoniously on the shelf next to them. Caroline instinctively crossed her arms to cover herself, but Klaus shook his head at her, unfolding her arms and placing them gently to her side.

"Don't hide from me," he said softly, a hint of a plea in his tone, eyes fixed on hers before they gradually dropped lower, settling on her heaving breasts, before they travelled back up to her face. "Exquisite," he murmured, a dimpled smirk gracing his face.

She could bear it no more—she needed him to touch her, _now_.

"Klaus…please…" she whispered, placing her hands on his, which were hanging loosely by his side.

"Yes, love?" His smirk widened, arousing her even more. She resisted the urge to throw herself at him.

"Touch me. I need to feel you," she begged, squeezing his hands between hers.

"As you wish, sweetheart," he nodded, moving his hands to her breasts.

She cried out at the feeling, but her cry was muffled by his lips, which silenced her moans of pleasure. He brushed his thumbs lightly over her nipples as her caressed her soft flesh.

She was on fire, ablaze with the heady sensations he was creating within her.

His lips finally settled on her collarbone once more, and he had just kissed the tops of her breasts when she heard a loud vibration coming from her phone on top of the piano. She groaned in frustration, starting to push Klaus away.

He pushed her right back.

"Ignore it, love," he breathed, pinching one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

Caroline let out a breathy moan at the sensation, falling back into her lust-filled haze, when her phone vibrated again.

She managed to escape him this time, cursing the interruption. She picked up her phone, shivering as he came up behind her, his arms wrapping around her and his hands picking up where they had left off, kneading her breasts. She moaned, leaning back into him, and by sheer force of will unlocked her phone, looking at her inbox.

She squeaked in alarm, throwing Klaus's arms off of her and scrambling for her discarded bra and shirt.

"What's the matter, love?"

"Katherine Pierce is the matter, that's what!" she nearly screamed, throwing his own shirt at his head and hurriedly fixing her bra back into place. "Apparently she found a ride to campus and almost at the building!"

He sighed in frustration, pulling his shirt back on, watching with amusement as she muttered angrily to herself, dressing quickly and running her hands through her hair in an attempt to tame her blonde curls.

"Oh god, what was I thinking? Stupid, stupid, _stupid_, Forbes!" she berated herself, smacking her forehead.

"Caroline."

Klaus's voice stopped her. She looked over at him, a frown creasing her brow.

He placed a hand under her chin, forcing her to look at him. "I want you to know that I have absolutely no regrets." He traced her cheek with his finger. "You're the very last thing I was expecting to walk through that door this morning—talented, beautiful, strong…so full of life and passion. I quite fancy you, truth be told." He brushed back one of her stray curls, lowering his voice and fixing her with a serious expression. "Now the question is, do you have any regrets?"

She knew what he was doing. He was offering her an out, one last chance to come out of this unscathed. But she also knew that he didn't want her to take that chance. He wanted her to choose him—to take a chance on _him_, in spite of the obstacles.

And maybe, it could just be the chance of a lifetime.

The sound of heels clicking outside in the hallway spurred her into action.

Smiling brightly, she pressed her lips to his in a chaste kiss.

"My only regret is that we didn't finish what we started."

Grinning at his shocked but pleased face, she turned away from him just in time to catch the opening door.

"Sorry I'm late! Stupid tire—anyways, how have you guys been doing?" Katherine sounded apologetic as she entered the room.

Caroline exchanged glances with Klaus, who smirked. "Oh, I'd say we made great progress. What do you think, Caroline?"

"Yeah, we definitely didn't waste any time," Caroline smiled, a sense of excitement and relief flooding through her being.

Let the chips fall where they may, but for once in her life she was certain she had made the right choice.

* * *

**I don't even know what this is, but I needed more classical musician AUs so I wrote one! Leave me a review ****and please don't judge me too harshly as this was my first time writing something remotely resembling smut**


	2. Always

Two years.

It had been two long years since he had last seen her, the woman who had haunted his dreams.

She had been sixteen then, a charming waif of a girl, but on the cusp of womanhood—her blue eyes shining, golden curls swept up in an elegant twist, and lips curled in a bright smile that could warm even the darkest of hearts.

He did not know why he was so drawn to her—after all, the assembly rooms in Bath boasted numerous eligible beauties to catch his fancy—but ever since he had noticed her spiritedly dancing with his friend Stefan, laughing at some nonsense the other man had said, he wished to know more of her.

Stefan had most conveniently introduced them in between sets, and in a moment of uninhibited weakness, he had asked her to dance with him.

One dance became two, which became an evening at the Salvatore residence playing cards, which became a night at the opera, a stroll in the gardens, a turn out in an open carriage enjoying the sunshine.

His days had never been happier.

But duty, as it so often does, interfered.

Mikael, ever the aggrandizing socialite patriarch, had forbidden him from pursuing her— her meager fortune and low connections in society made her unworthy of the Mikaelson name and wealth.

And so, his father did everything in his power to separate him from her.

First, it was business. Mikael placed him in charge of their estate in Kent, and dealing with the tenant farmers and numerous village folk surrounding their property was no small task.

Still, he wrote to her often, talking of his rides through the countryside, the trifling gossip from the village.

She wrote back, telling him of her walks into the village, practicing the pianoforte, spending evenings laughing with her friends.

One day, nearly a year ago, when he had moved back to his home in London with the rest of his family, her letters had suddenly stopped.

A few weeks afterward, he discovered his father burning a stack of unopened letters in his study, an expression of cruel triumph contorting his face.

Then, it was Tatia Pierce. The daughter of a countess with a fortune of thirty thousand pounds, he might have once found her beautiful—many in his circle certainly thought so, Stefan included—but she had not the same light laugh, nor the vivacious joy of _her_. Still, he was forced to be attentive and flatter her, offering her his arm when they were out in society, enduring her vapid disposition and capricious flirting all the while wishing he were hundreds of miles away in a little neighborhood in Devonshire.

He wondered if she had married.

The thought tormented him for more days and nights than he could count.

His father and mother both urged him to propose to Miss Pierce—but he could not, and never would, love her or respect her.

Fortunately for him, Elijah was much more suited to that task.

After their marriage, he was finally free.

But he doubted.

Would she even want to see him, after so much time apart? She must be angry with him, for staying away for so long.

He couldn't bear it if she despised him.

So he returned to Kent permanently, trying desperately to forget her and her hold on his heart.

But the very last place on earth he had expected to find her again was at his little sister's coming out ball at their residence in London. He had not seen Rebekah nor the rest of his family in months, and knew little of her circle of friends.

If only he had been warned…

He was frozen, immutable, standing in the middle of the crowded ballroom and drinking in the vision of loveliness before him.

The same winsome face and fine eyes that had entranced him so long ago was crinkled in mirth, the few curls dangling down from her bun swaying as she threw her head back, laughing at the dark-haired man in regimentals who stood in front of her, his hand encasing hers in a familiar manner.

His heart had never been more broken.

But he had to see her. Nothing on this earth would stop him from hearing her voice once more, and seeing her lovely eyes directed at him.

Stealthily, he inched his way towards her, never removing his eyes from her face.

To his great luck, the dark-haired man took his leave of her just as he reached her, leaving her very much alone for the moment.

He seized the opportunity while her back was to him.

"Might I have the first dance, Miss Forbes?"

He watched with some satisfaction as she stilled, then turned around slowly to face him.

His breath caught in his throat. He had sketched her likeness countless times, but even his sharp memory and deft fingers did her no justice.

_Genuine beauty. _

"Lord Mikaelson," she breathed, barely concealing her shock and curtsying gracefully as he bowed before her. "I—yes, you may." She smiled, but he could easily detect the pain she tried so very hard to mask.

He remained silent, offering her his arm to lead her to her place in the set. He could feel her light warmth even through her white silk gloves and the slight pressure of her hand on his arm.

The musicians struck up their tune, an appropriately melancholy melody. They danced gracefully towards each other; their hands met and clasped in the center, and he recalled with a burst of emotion that very first dance in Bath, when they had talked of anything and everything with such ease.

Now, so much lay between them, waiting to be said.

He chanced a glance at her from the corner of his eye. A slight frown creased her lovely brow, her face grave, yet not angry, as he had feared. He knew that look, a consequence of her natural tendency to stubbornness. She would not be the first to speak.

He took the hint, and when his courage was high, he spoke.

"Is you family in good health, Miss Forbes?"

"Yes, they are, thank you."

"I am glad to hear it. I confess I am surprised to see you here of all places. May I ask how you have come to know my sister?"

"We met a few months ago through a mutual acquaintance—Miss Elena Gilbert, a dear friend of mine from childhood." She gave a small smile. "Rebekah is a very affectionate and lively friend to me. I remember how you talked of her often, and how much you loved and esteemed must be so proud of her and her success tonight."

"I am," he concurred, circling around her as the dance required, making certain to remain as close to her as possible without overstepping the bounds of propriety. "There is one woman however whom I hold in much higher regard than my sister. One whose intelligence and beauty and affection I have desired for far too long."

"Nik…"

"_Caroline_."

It was the first time he had spoken her name aloud in two years. He had almost forgotten the taste of her name rolling off of his tongue—sweet, and soft, yet strong.

A fitting name for so lovely a woman.

"You left," she said quietly. He could see the sorrowful glint in her eyes, and it cut him deeply. "I wrote to you, and you stopped."

She stated matter-of-factly, but there was no mistaking the implicit question.

"I know, and I am sorry. Circumstances prevented me from continuing our correspondence."

"Miss Pierce," she nodded in understanding, the barest hint of jealously seeping into her tone. Suddenly, her eyes narrowed in accusation. "But, if I may speak plainly, she has been married to you brother for at least three months now. Could you not have written to me then?"

His shame deepened.

He had been weak. Cowardly. He had presumed she had forgotten him, and did not seek her out because of his own fear of her rejection.

At that moment, the dance ended, the crowd erupting into polite applause.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she had already turned away, melting back into the throng.

Anger quickly replaced his shame. He strode after her, keeping his eyes on the pale pink color of her gown.

At last, he caught up to her, out on the veranda, the strains of music and laughter still echoing though the crisp evening air. They were blessedly alone.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, pulling around towards him.

"Don't turn your back on me, Caroline—"

"You turned your back on _me_! Did you think I had forgotten you, bestowed my affections elsewhere? Do you think me so inconstant? I have been utterly alone without you!" She held her head high, chin thrust up in defiance.

So beautiful, even in anger.

"As have I!" he burst out. "I have loved none but you ever since I met you, Caroline! But tonight I had proof that staying away from you was a wise option. I saw you tonight with that young officer. He seemed altogether too familiar with you—"

Her laughter cut him short. Confused, he stepped back from her, glowering.

"I cannot believe it—you are jealous—of _Tyler_?" she giggled, covering her mouth with her hands in an attempt to compose herself. He continued to frown at her. "You have nothing to fear from him. He is my _cousin_, Nik."

She was not spoken for.

Relief coursed through his veins. All of the years spent away for her hand not been in vain.

There was still a chance.

Even as his body relaxed at her explanation, his mind tensed for an entirely different reason.

She had called him by his name, for the first time in two years.

_Nik_.

Hearing his name on her lips…he felt a familiar rush of affection towards her.

"You said my name," he murmured, closing the distance between them and tilting his head to observe her, an uncontained smile spreading over his features.

She bit her lip, then looked at him, her face blazing with vulnerability. "You said you loved me." It was a whisper.

Her body was trembling, her eyes searching his face.

He lifted his hand, grazing it gently against her cheek. "I have loved you." He brought his other hand up to frame her face. "I do love you." His thumbs rubbed soft circles against her skin as he leaned closer. "And I will love you. Always."

He brought his lips down lightly on hers, sealing his vows with a kiss.

A kiss that she soon returned, a little sigh escaping her lips as she slid her hands up his chest to wind around his neck, threading her fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck.

He knew not how long they remained in their embrace, two souls who had loved, lost, and found one another again. But too soon for his liking did she break away from him, though her face shone with that inner light he was so drawn too, simply beaming at him.

"I believe we should return to the ball before we are missed."

He nodded, recovering himself. But there was something still left unsaid by her, and he couldn't help but feel that sting of rejection as he silently took her arm, escorting her back to the ball.

Just before they reached the ballroom, her voice floated towards him, almost inaudibly, pitted against the roar of voices that echoed from the nearby hall.

"Nik?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

A brief pause. "I love you too."

Shocked, he stopped, looking down at her. His questioning stare was met by a brilliant smile.

She loved him.

Caroline loved him.

His damaged heart swelled within him. He knew that he was unworthy—an indisputable fact—but he vowed to himself then and there that he would devote the rest of his days to her happiness, erasing the suffering he had caused her one small day at a time.

Elated, he bent down and pressed his lips to hers once more, moving his lips fervently. Pulling back slightly, he whispered softly against her lips.

"Good."

* * *

**One day I'm going to write a full-blown Regency-era Jane-Austen-esque fic..but for now this will do. Hope you enjoyed it and you can follow me Tumblr at klarolinessecondbreakfast**


	3. Overture II

**So someone on Tumblr asked me to write a second part to Overture, so I did! Let it never be said that I break my word! Also, PLEASE go easy on me, I've never done actual smut before! Enjoy :)**

* * *

Overture II

The middle of the semester brought out both the best and the worst of Caroline's neurotic, control-freak tendencies. On the one hand, her perfectionist personality gave her the drive to rehearse and study like there was no tomorrow for mid-term exams, and consequently she passed them with flying colors. On the other hand, the stress and pressure of her final semester before graduation had gotten to her, especially the fact that her senior vocal recital was fast approaching. She could detonate like an atomic bomb if someone pressed the right buttons, and everyone who knew her was smart enough to never make that mistake.

Everyone, that is, except for Klaus.

It had been about a month since their first heated meeting in that small practice room, and from then on they had snowballed into something resembling an actual relationship, although neither one of them wanted to label themselves—not yet, at least. The fact that they were practically sneaking around due to the student-teacher forbidden love scenario didn't help matters in the commitment department.

Close friendship seemed the closest term that adequately described them.

Aside from rehearsing the duet together with Katherine and the frequent knowing glances they exchanged as they passed each other in the hallway, they made a silent agreement to find a time to see each other away from the public eye at least once a week. As they very well couldn't go back to her on-campus apartment she shared with her roommate Bonnie, they usually went back to his place.

Sometimes he made her dinner, complete with a bottle of wine and candlelight. Sometimes they watched a movie, usually of her choice, and she would tease him by picking some silly chick-flick. Often they found themselves drawn to his beautiful Steinway piano, him serenading her with a few of Mendelssohn's _Songs Without Words_, her singing along softly when he would change it up with a well-known pop tune.

Somewhere along the way, they found themselves progressing into something much more than simply friends.

But there was one thing that had not progressed as one would think. Not since that first meeting.

Oh, they had certainly kissed, more often than not in his office with the door closed, taking great care to muffle their moans and keep clothing intact.

After a month of engaging in this dangerous dance, however, Klaus was more than ready to persuade Caroline to take the next step.

Hence, why he took every opportunity that presented itself to tease her.

_Constantly._

Placing a hand on her thigh while they sat down on his couch. Sneaking a finger past the waistband of her jeans and stroking the skin of her hip. Brushing the side of her breasts with his hands.

She never failed to slap his wandering hands away. But lately, he had noted with interest that her slaps were gradually lacking in their usual strength.

Fantastic.

The tides were turning in his favor. All that remained was to wait for the opportune moment.

Luckily for him, he did not have to wait for long.

"Seriously? What possessed you to schedule my senior recital rehearsal at 9 pm on a Thursday night?! Isn't that against the rules or something?"

He chuckled, watching her throw down her belongings onto the recital hall stage in annoyance from his position on the piano bench, the lighting from the stage lights casting a warm glow and highlighting her blonde curls that she had opted to leave down, framing her face.

"My apologies, love, but this was the only time the hall was open today, and as next week is spring break and your recital is on the Tuesday we return, I believe this is really the only time we have to run everything without anything too pressing hanging over our heads."

As the pianist for her recital, he had rehearsed with her a few times before, but this was the final run-through where they actually could use the whole stage and test out the lovely acoustics in the hall, as opposed to the usual cramped office or practice room, where the sound was essentially dead.

"Ugh. Fine. You win. We're already here, anyways, and I really do need to practice as much as I can," she conceded begrudgingly, pulling out her folder of music and placing it on the piano.

"How are you feeling about your pieces, sweetheart?"

She sighed, her initial frustration deflating. "I guess I'm alright. It's just stressful, you know? 30 minutes of music is a long time, no matter how you slice it. Especially for a singer." She shook her head, shooting him a half-smile. "But I am kind of excited to do it, though. My mom has invited like all of her deputies from the station, and most of my friends are coming out to support me, which is awesome."

He smiled at her. "I'm glad to hear it. And if you sing just like you do in rehearsal, pouring out your soul and letting others catch a faint glimpse of it through you voice, you'll do wonderfully." Grinning as her pink cheeks, he turned back to the piano, opening up his binder to her first piece. "We should get started, because we've only got the hall until about 10:30 when security comes to lock up for the night. Wouldn't want to get in trouble now," he winked at her.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Ready when you are, _maestro_."

He inclined his head, smirking. "As my diva commands."

The first notes of Barber's _The Desire for Hermitage_ echoed around the hall, and Caroline began to sing.

* * *

"Ok, I totally need a break, my voice is starting to get all breathy," she said some time later, unscrewing the cap to her water bottle and drinking deeply.

"Do you want to call it a night? I don't want you to hurt yourself," he said with concern, looking over at her as he stood up and stretched, the action exposing the skin of his sculpted abdomen. He caught Caroline staring at him, causing him to grin.

"No—no, I'll be fine. There's only 2 pieces left to rehearse, anyways," she muttered, a faint blush gracing her cheeks.

His grin widened.

_Strike while the iron is hot._

"Like what you see, love?"

Her head snapped up, glaring at him. "What's it to you?" Her cheeks were now bright pink.

"It's of great importance to me," he replied smartly, stepping towards her confidently. She backed up, but before she could move too far he had easily trapped her in the crook of the piano, his arms caging her in between himself and the instrument. "You see, I have great plans for us tonight, and mutual physical attraction happens to be an important factor."

She tossed her head in defiance. "Oh really? What happened to getting out of here early so security doesn't catch us? It's already past ten, anyways—"

She stopped in surprise as his lips descended on hers, the small of her back digging into the hard polished wood of the piano as he pressed himself against her.

She groaned, placing her hands on his chest. "Klaus—we need to rehearse—"

"Oh but we are, sweetheart. In fact, we've been rehearsing for the past month. This is merely the warm-up to the grand performance." His breath tickled her ear as he planted open-mouthed kisses along her jaw, his hands caressing her hips teasingly.

She closed her eyes, losing her grip on reality with every touch he gave her. But she suddenly pulled back, giving him a warning look.

"I swear to God, Klaus, if someone catches us, I will personally put you through a shredder."

He laughed, pulling her back into him. "Is that a yes?"

He could sense her hesitation. She bit her lower lip, considering him with an unusually serious expression. He opened his mouth, about to apologize for his forwardness, when she straightened up with a glint in her eye, leaning toward him.

Throwing caution to the winds, she answered him with a searing kiss. "It's a promise, Professor Mikaelson." She lowered her voice. "And I always keep my promises."

He chuckled at her. "Well then, I believe I should take certain precautions to decrease my chances of death by shredder." He lifted her in the air bridal-style, cutting off her squeak of surprise with a firm kiss. He carried her off the stage and into the dark, unlit wing of the stage, avoiding the assortment of stacked chairs and music stands, and deposited her gently onto the old, creaking sofa that sat in the corner of the wing.

He stood there for a moment, the silence surrounding them almost unbreakable, save for their labored breathing.

There was just enough light from the stage lights to see her lying before him, her eyes bright with desire.

He couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

"Are we ready to begin our performance, Professor Mikaelson?" Caroline purred seductively, beckoning to him with her finger.

A growl emanated from deep within his chest, his desire for her skyrocketing. It was not often that Caroline called him by his 'proper' title, but when she did, it was an instant turn-on. He sprang toward her, quickly lowering his body on top of hers, delighting in the pleasurable friction between their bodies. "You have no idea how I've longed for this: to touch you…make love to you…to play you like the fine instrument you are." He punctuated his words with a trail of open-mouthed kisses on her neck, her breathy moans only encouraging him further.

He felt Caroline's hands at the hem of his shirt, and he raised himself back, obliging her. She pulled his shirt off, her delicate hands running all over his bare torso, scorching his skin everywhere she touched him. Not to be outdone, he wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her into him, giving her a passionate kiss on the lips before he returned the favor and slipped her peplum blouse over her head. Immediately he attacked her collarbone with his lips, his scruff scraping gently against her skin. Caroline arched up into him, keeping her arms locked around his neck, her head thrown back in pleasure.

Soon enough, he slowed, pulling back just long enough to admire the lacy pale pink bra she wore, before he caught her gaze. She was looking at him intently, the trace of a smile adorning her lips, and she nodded at him.

Smiling, he reached around and unclasped her bra, peeling it off of her body with deliberate slowness, before he tossed it on the ground.

"Beautiful." He whispered, and lowered Caroline back down onto the couch. He lowered his head, and took one of her pert nipples between his teeth, sucking lightly, smirking at her answering moan and buck of her hips. The soft flesh of her breasts was even better than he could have imagined, and he took his time worshipping them, alternating between using his mouth and his hands.

Caroline, for her part, could barely form a coherent sentence, the pleasure was so overwhelming. Unable to take any more teasing, she took matters into her own hands, frantically pushing him off of her and fumbling with his belt buckle. She grasped him firmly in her hand, pleased at how hard he was for her.

"_God_, Caroline," Klaus hissed, much to her satisfaction.

Revenge was sweet.

She added a bit more pressure, pumping him slightly faster. His breath came in short pants, little groans escaping his lips.

Before long, he stopped her, standing to remove his jeans the rest of the way. Caroline's eyes widened as she saw him in all his naked glory—the man was actually perfect. Her train of thought was interrupted, however, when he knelt beside her, placing his hands on her cheeks, his thumbs making soft circles against her skin.

"Are you sure, sweetheart?"

Caroline opened her mouth, her desire for him so potent that she was almost annoyed that he would ask her now because _hello, seriously?_—but something in his face stopped her. She recognized that look—the look she had seen in her own mirror more times than she could count, back when her insecurities were at their height and her standard for men was at its lowest—the fear of rejection. But it was not only that—it was a look akin to hope, a curiosity of where they would stand with each other after they took this path. She was sure she had the exact same look on her face. What would happen after this? Would they continue on as "friends," or would they perhaps be something…greater? Lovers? A couple?

She didn't know.

But all that could wait until later. All she knew, right in that instant, was that she needed him. All of him, with nothing held back.

"Yes," she breathed shakily. She watched Klaus breathlessly as he unzipped her jeans and pulled them down her legs, one leg at a time, before they were a heap on the floor. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers curled around the waistband of her black lace panties, which he removed painstakingly, his stormy blue eyes firmly fixed on her face.

She flushed pink under his gaze, now completely bare to him. The ache between her legs intensified tenfold and goosebumps erupted all over her naked body.

"_Caroline_," he whispered. It wasn't a question; it was _adoration_.

Suddenly, she threw herself at him, pulling him up onto her and rolling them over so she landed on top of him, moaning as she felt him teasing her dripping entrance. In one swift downwards motion of her hips she enveloped him, keeping her eyes locked on his, reveling in the small blissful gasps that fell from his lips. She stilled for a moment, burning this moment when they had first become one into her mind, taking in every sensation and emotion swirling within her.

All at once, Klaus sat up bring their upper bodies flush together, eliciting a surprised moan from her.

The new, more intimate position felt—

"_So good_," Klaus growled, capturing her lips with his, flaring up her desire once more. "Sweetheart, you feel absolutely _glorious_."

His words, husky and dark with lust, nearly drove her mad. She began to move, agonizingly slowly, sending shivers all over her body. Once she took him in completely, she pulled out all the way, just as slowly, wanting to feel every inch of him within her. She was so lost in a passionate haze that she barely registered the feel of his stubble slightly scraping her neck as he decorated her neck with hot kisses.

Needing more of him, she picked up the pace, slamming down onto him, hard, causing them both to cry out.

Klaus's hands instantly went to her hips, guiding her in her movements, his own hips bucking up into her, his breath coming in harsh pants.

Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony as they made love, making sweet music in the chorus of sighs and ecstatic moans that rivaled the passion of the most skilled violinist, the beat of their hearts pounding together in a rhythm know only to them.

She could feel her orgasm building, her mind lost to the pleasure, completely blank except for one thought: Klaus.

Klaus.

_Klaus._

So focused on him and the feel of his body joined to hers, it didn't take long for his name to escape her lips, chanting it over and over again, like a prayer.

She didn't notice her eyes were closed until she heard his voice.

"Look at me, Caroline."

Her eyes jolted open, meeting his turbulent blue ones, her lips parted. He kissed her once more, sucking down on her lower lip and nipping at it with his teeth just as their bodies came together so forcefully that Caroline saw stars, crying out as she toppled over the edge of bliss, his name once more escaping her lips. She collapsed into his arms, her head burrowed into the crook of his shoulder, her ears just barely picking up his voice grunted her name as he thrust into her one final time, riding out his own orgasm.

They remained entwined together for some time, catching their breath, enjoying the post-climax glow. He traced patterns on her back with his hands, breathing in her scent, his check pressed into her soft curls.

At long last, Caroline lifted her head, and Klaus was relieved to see the lazy smile gracing her face. The knowledge that he had brought her to such contentedness was infinitely gratifying.

Feeling his own lips turn upwards, he brought his lips to hers, ever so sweetly, just brushing her lips.

She hummed at the contact, but by and by he noticed that she was humming a melody. In no time at all she was crooning softly, her arms still around his neck, her eyes looking steadily into his own, sparkling.

_Dein blaues Auge hält so still,_

_Ich blicke bis zum Grund._

_Du fragst mich, was ich sehen will? _

_Ich sehe mich gesund. _

_Es brannte mich ein glühend Paar,_

_Noch schmerzt das Nachgefühl;_

_Das deine ist wie See so klar_

_Und wie ein See so kühl._

It was one of her recital pieces; Brahms, in fact. He stilled as the German melody and its entrancing language floated around him in Caroline's lovely tone, his heart thumping erratically as he recalled the translation in his mind.

_Your blue eyes keep so still_

_That I can gaze upon their very depths._

_You ask me what I want to see? -_

_I see my own well-being._

_A glowing pair burned me once;_

_The scar still hurts, still hurts._

_Yet your eyes are like the sea so clear,_

_And like the sea, so cool and detached._

Her voice faded away as she finished singing, leaving him speechless.

Was this how she truly felt about him?

He knew that he cared deeply for her, despite their short time knowing each other.

It had been a constant struggle, his aversion to commitment battling with the strongest urge to get to know her, to be with her...to _cherish_ her.

Did she feel the same?

No, it wasn't possible. No one truly loved him, he daren't hope for such a thing—

"Klaus?"

He started at her whisper, looking down at the blonde beauty in his arms. "Yes, Caroline?" he asked quietly.

She bit her lip shyly, ducking her head. "I…well…it's just that—that—I think I'm falling in love with you. That's all."

She peeked up at him, a glint of vulnerability shining in her gaze.

His heart nearly burst within him.

He almost didn't believe it.

But one intent, searching glance at her face, so beautiful in its honest sincerity, confirmed her words.

She did care.

She cared for _him_.

He beamed at her, unable to contain his joy. "That's all, is it?"

She nodded, that lovely blush he had come to adore staining her cheeks once more. "For now."

He lowered his head, their foreheads gently touching as he kissed her, pouring his gratitude into it.

_Oh, sweetheart, if only you _knew_…_

He had already fallen for her.

He couldn't quite find the courage in him to voice it yet, but it was there. He couldn't deny it.

And she was falling in love with him.

For now, it was enough.

* * *

**I'm just going to go hide now because that was my first smut ever and I'm pretty sure it was awful and terrible...but I hope you still liked it and leave a review! Also here's the soundtrack if you want to look up the songs, they all so gorgeous and I got so many feels from them!**

**The Desire for Hermitage by Samuel Barber **

**Dein blaues Auge hält so still by Johannes Brahms**


	4. If I Loved You

**So I needed a Klaroline as theatre people AU, and here it is! It's probably cheesy as heck but whatever-enjoy! Oh and leave a review if you want! **

If I Loved You

"No. No fucking way."

She sat, aghast, staring fixedly at the laptop screen in front of her.

"Care, what's wrong? Did you get the part?"

Her roommate Elena ran into her room, looking over her shoulder at the screen.

"Oh, I got the part alright. But guess who's been cast as the Phantom?"

Elena raised her eyebrows. "You don't mean—oh, no…"

"Oh, yes." Caroline seethed, jabbing a finger at the first name on the list, just before her own name next to 'Christine Daae.' "Klaus fucking Mikaelson. The absolute bane of my existence." She groaned, rubbing her eyes. Could her life possibly get any worse?

Caroline had been working at Originals Dinner Theatre for a few years now. She loved her job and the theatre business, and was practically a star at Originals, having been cast in a number of leading roles over the seasons. There was nothing more satisfying than giving a good performance and bringing joy into the lives of the audience through the stories told in the plays and musicals, and waiting tables before the show and during intermission was just an added bonus of making some extra cash and interacting with the audience members. Caroline loved her castmates and co-workers—there was never a dull moment, that was for sure. The director and owner of Originals, Elijah Mikaelson, was a total genius, breathing such life into the productions with his artistic visions and keeping everyone in line and focused with his quiet yet effective and kind guidance.

But every job, even the seemingly perfect ones, had their flaws.

This particular flaw went by the name of Klaus Mikaelson. Niklaus Mikaelson, to be precise. Who also happened to be Elijah's younger brother—_and_ the theater's producer and co-owner.

Caroline had never before met anyone who drove her batshit insane like Klaus Mikaelson did.

Arrogance and inflated ego aside, the man had made it his life's mission to make her life miserable, usually in the form of teasing and embarrassing her during rehearsals.

Everyone else thought him charming and suave—particularly the female cast—but Caroline had taken an instant dislike to him, and their little rivalry had been going on since Caroline's first day working there.

She had no idea that he had even auditioned for the role—did he even need to? He practically owned the place, after all—and it was just her luck to be cast opposite him—and in _The Phantom of the Opera_, of all the romantic, over-the-top musical spectacles.

"You'll be fine, Care. I mean, you've known him and worked with him for a while now. I have complete faith that you can handle Klaus," Elena assured her, patting her on the shoulder in a show of sympathetic support.

Caroline nodded, letting out a heavy sigh. "I sure hope so."

* * *

"Alright everyone, excellent work today! Tomorrow we'll begin choreography for 'Masquerade,' so be sure to run over the music carefully beforehand to refresh your memory. You're dismissed, and have a pleasant evening!"

Elijah Mikaelson waved a hand at the cast, the chatter of tired and hungry thespians after a long rehearsal filling the theater in a familiar cacophony.

Caroline wished she could be dismissed along with the others, but unfortunately the burden of being a lead required extra rehearsal time, and she had one more number to block before she could go home for the night. She gulped down a few mouthfuls of water. Any minute now—

"Caroline, Niklaus," Elijah's voice reached her ears. "When you're ready, we can begin."

She set her water bottle down, walking back over to where the stoic director was sitting, perusing his script that had an enormous amount of sticky notes attached to it that were covered in elegant handwriting, along with a huge binder of other notes and scribblings. Sometimes she forgot how much work went into directing a musical. Thank goodness Elijah was blessed with patience and hadn't lost his sanity as of yet.

"I'm all set, Elijah," she said, hiding a smile as Elijah jolted up from his notes, as if waking from a trance.

"Wonderful." He looked up, smiling at her. "Now, I'd like you to start stage right—a little more towards center stage—perfect. Niklaus, you'll be…where is he?"

Elijah frowned, looking around for the missing leading man.

"I'm right here, Elijah, no need to fuss," a suave, arrogant voice lilted up from the back of the theater.

Caroline rolled her eyes. Typical.

"Ah, Niklaus. Late as usual," Elijah called out, a hint of annoyance lacing his tone. "So good of you to grace us with your presence."

Caroline couldn't help herself. She snorted audibly.

"How could I miss my biggest number?" Klaus retorted smoothly, shrugging off his black leather jacket and sauntering over to where Caroline stood. He shot her one of his signature smirks. "Hello, Caroline."

She started right back at him, defiantly, refusing to engage in his little game. "Let's just get this over with," she muttered, not deigning to waste time greeting him, the asshole. She prayed that they could get through the scene as quickly and painlessly as possible.

"Now, you two, I realize that we haven't rehearsed the other Phantom/Christine scenes yet, but I wanted to start with 'Music of the Night' to ensure that it is spot-on and well-rehearsed. It is, after all, _the_ song of the show." He eyed Klaus firmly. "I trust you have been practicing with Katerina, brother?"

Klaus let out a long-suffering sigh. "Yes, I have unfortunately been exposed to the unforgiving, vitriolic temper of your wife. Apparently, I have—what was it? 'An ass that needs a good kicking as well as terrible breath support when singing above a D-flat.'"

Elijah's eyebrows shot up, amused. "Well, she's not wrong, I daresay," he commented, lips twitching at the sight of Caroline shaking with suppressed giggles and Klaus glaring at her. He knew as well as anyone the little rivalry between the two, and he couldn't deny that if anyone could put his wildly egotistical brother in his place, it would be Caroline.

"Yes, yes, it's all very amusing—can we get on with it?" Klaus scowled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Elijah cleared his throat hurriedly. "Of course, brother. Caroline, stay where you are for now. Rather than block you now, I want to see how you envision Christine's movements before I jump right in and give you my vision of the blocking. Just react to the Phantom's words with awe. I'm sure you have good instincts," he smiled, then turned to Klaus. "Now, this is your time to shine, Niklaus. Stand over there, stage right. I know you have the physicality and presence, but I want to hear a bit more vocal power. It's a seductive, ethereal song, obviously, and I need both of you to exude sensuality throughout." Once Klaus was in position, he sat back in his chair, nodding to the pianist. "Let's hear it, then."

Caroline trained her eyes on the ceiling, willing herself into character. Emotion: wide-eyed innocent awe.

That carefully crafted mask almost slipped at the sound of Niklaus Mikaelson's voice, velvety smooth, slinking and whispering through the air and caressing her ear as the first notes of the melody drifted from the piano.

She barely managed to stop herself from breaking character and gawking at him.

Granted, she had made a point of ignoring his existence, but how on earth did she not know that he could sing like that?

Carefully, she chanced a peak at him, staying in character, letting her gaze linger over his face.

Lord knew the man was sinfully attractive…but if Caroline was turned on by anything, it was a man with powerful pipes.

The fact that his dark blonde stubble glinted in the light, framing his full raspberry lips that were currently mouthing the words to one of the most sensual of showtunes was irrelevant and had absolutely no effect on her. Nope. Zero.

And the chill running down her spine had nothing to do with a pair of keen, blue eyes blazing at her as they caught hers.

No. It was purely the emotion of the moment. Of course, it could hardly be anything else other than strictly acting.

But the goosebumps erupting over her arms suggested otherwise.

She nearly jumped as she felt the touch of a warm hand on her arm. Klaus slowly pulled her toward him, gradually, without a hint of hurry, lifting a lone finger to slide gently down the side of her face. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, but quickly masked it as she turned away from him, forcing herself to get back to the present and focus on her movements.

Her eyes closed of their own accord as Klaus's voice swelled to a glorious crescendo.

If music was sex, she could swear she would be having an orgasm...

She sensed his presence behind her, knowing that this was the iconic moment—Christine falling into the Phantom's embrace, completely enthralled by his power.

Her body trembled as Klaus snaked a strong arm around her, his hand coming to lightly rest on the skin of her chest right beneath her collarbone, his fingers just resting on the neckline of her shirt.

For the briefest of moments, she wondered what it would feel like, if this were _real_…

So lost in the moment, the heady feel of his skin on hers, she was thrown completely off guard when he suddenly picked her up bridal-style—right, they were still acting, of course—and laid her down on the other side of the stage. Klaus leaned close to her, stroking her face once more, as he sang the last lines of the song:

_You alone can make my song take flight…_

_Help me make the music of the night._

The notes of the last chord faded away into a deafening silence. Caroline held her breath, acutely aware of Klaus's proximity. Even with her eyes still closed, she knew he was looking at her with those piercing eyes.

A long low whistle jolted her out of her haze.

"Well, no one can deny that you two have chemistry," Elijah noted, eyebrows raised. "But I must say, I'm impressed with your performances. Did you rehearse this scene beforehand?"

Caroline glanced nervously at Klaus before shaking her head, flushing at the smirk her partner was displaying.

"Incredible," Elijah smiled slightly, hastily writing some notes into his script. "In all honesty, I very much liked how you both reacted and played off of each other's movements, so there's not much I want to change. Niklaus, the only thing I need you to be aware of is to make sure that you don't rush that one measure—where was it?—Ah yes, here…"

Elijah launched into full-on directing mode, allowing Caroline a moment to collect her thoughts.

Only one stood out to her.

_What the hell was that?_

* * *

It was well after eleven when Caroline arrived back at her apartment, exhausted and in need of a good shot of vodka. Flinging her purse on the table, she strode to the cabinet, only to realize that they were fresh out of vodka.

She bit back a scream of frustration.

As much as she hated to admit it, Klaus Mikaelson had ruffled some of her perfectly plumed, proverbial feathers.

How on earth she could be even remotely turned on by a man she despised was a complete mystery to her.

And now, she couldn't even drown her woes in alcohol. Just perfect.

Rubbing her temple, she sighed. She needed to text Elena. Her roommate was usually out and about with her boyfriend Stefan most evenings, so perhaps she could persuade her to stop by the store and replenish their liquor supply. It was worth a shot at least.

Kicking off her flats, she padded back into the living room, throwing herself down on the couch and rummaging through her purse for her phone.

Shit.

Her phone was gone.

She swore loudly. She must have left it in the car, or worse, back at the theater.

Frantically, she slipped her feet back into her flats and grabbed her keys, when a knock on the door rang out, stopping her.

Curious, she reached for the doorknob, flinging the door wide open.

Piercing blue eyes in a handsome face that had been overtaking her brain for the entire night were staring back at her.

"_Klaus_?" Her eyes widened. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He merely smirked at her, arms folded against his chest. "You forgot your phone back at work. I'm simply returning it to its rightful owner." He pulled the phone out of his pocket.

"Oh thank God!" Caroline reached for it, but he quickly dangled it out of reach. She raised a questioning brow.

"Ah ah ah. I believe I deserve a reward of some kind for this little favor."

Caroline rolled her eyes. "I would think that doing the right thing would be enough of a reward in and of itself."

"What ever happened to 'one good turn deserves another,' sweetheart?"

"Well what ever happened to 'no good deed goes unpunished'?"

Klaus raised his hands in surrender. "Touche. Although I am intrigued on how exactly you might punish me." He cast her a saucy grin, his tone dripping with innuendo.

Caroline threw her hands out to her sides in exasperation. "Seriously? First of all, let's be clear about one thing—I am entirely too smart to be seduced by you and your stupid charming accent, so don't bother. And secondly, give me the damn phone back and leave me alone!" Caroline hissed, her hand darting out to grab her phone, unsuccessfully, as Klaus merely took a step back from her.

"You think my accent is charming?" he asked, pleased at her slip-up.

"That's all you got from that? Ugh!" She groaned, diving for the phone once more.  
To her surprise, he caught her around the waist and pulled her to him, maneuvering them around so her back hit the wall next to her front door.

She swallowed, looking up into his handsome face, cursing the wave of heat coursing through her at his closeness.

"One date. That's my condition," Klaus spoke quietly, eyes boring into hers.

"No. Absolutely not." She retorted, ignoring the thrilling sensation coiling in her stomach. She was so not even considering the idea. Nope. Never.

"I suppose you'll have to buy a new phone then. A shame, really," Klaus said regretfully with a mock sigh, lips twitching mischievously.

She glared at him for a few moments, defiantly, searching his gaze for some weakness that she could exploit, but he was adamant.

He had her exactly where he wanted her, and she knew that he knew it, the arrogant bastard.

She gritted her teeth, and shoved him away from her. "Fine. One date, and then you leave me the hell alone. Are we clear, Mikaelson?"

He stepped toward her again, invading her personal space. "Transparently," he grinned triumphantly, shaking her proffered hand. "Shall I pick you up here Friday at seven, then?"

"Yeah, whatever." She scoffed, prying her phone from his grasp. "Now can you please go away?"

"In my experience, one usually thanks someone after they've returned something to them," Klaus said smoothly, eyes twinkling at her.

She jutted her chin out, tilting her head at him. "Thank you, Mr. Mikaelson, I'm incredibly grateful for your service," she snapped sarcastically, already turning back to go inside.

A hand pulled her back around to face him, and in the blink of an eye, she felt the soft pressure of soft, tender lips lightly touching her cheek, stubble softly scraping at her skin. She was so startled she lost her ability to move—but as quickly as it had come, the kiss was over, his hand relinquishing her from his grasp.

Her gaze snapped to his, eyes wide with surprise.

"I'll see you Friday, Caroline," he smiled at her once more, eyes lit up in victory, and then he was striding confidently down the hallway towards the elevators. "And you're welcome!" He called back over his shoulder as he rounded the corner and disappeared from view, the lingering scent of his cologne the only evidence that he had ever been there in the first place.

Caroline nearly ran into her apartment and closed the door, instantly slumping against it. Shakily, she raised her fingers to the spot on her cheek where he had kissed her, a warm feeling spreading through her being.

She had a date with Klaus Mikaelson. And there was the slightest possibility that she was attracted to him.

Could her life get any worse?


End file.
